Ashlyn Chronicles 1: 2287 A.D. by Glenn van Dyke, Renee van Dyke
Authors: Glenn van Dyke, Renee van Dyke
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fell asleep, the fugue overtook him, whisking him away into a netherworld of dreams in which Ashlyn came to him.
***
As yet another large quake stilled and Ashlyn’s craft settled, a small alarm on her tactical display sounded, bringing attention to a blip on the screen.
Ashlyn sat on the rim of the trench, some four thousand meters above Sea Base. She saw that far outside the minefield’s protective grid and far from the numerous blips that represented the debris of Enlil’s destroyed fleet, a lone, red, flashing triangle approached Earth. Target 01M.
As a new pilot in training, they had given Ashlyn the simplest of duties. Each day, she took a shift monitoring the lasers, making sure they were always in a state of readiness for when the attack began. For Ashlyn, it was supposed to have been nothing more than the work of a sleepy-eyed night watchman. It was here that the myriad of little sea creatures, drawn to the laser’s resonant hum and eerie orange glow, could help distract her from her profoundly strong need to be with Steven.
Each night, the fugue brought them together. Each time, Ashlyn’s blood felt like it boiled—her mind and body focused upon the desperate need to possess him. The fugue was seeking a physical fulfillment, which had not come, and it often left her feeling faint and disoriented. Killer migraines had forced her into isolation, seeking out quiet, darkness, and solitude.
Forty minutes ago, all that changed. Now the three sequentially linked quad-lasers were protecting Sea Base from Earth’s exploded Moon.
Ashlyn cursed the bad timing as she felt a spike in the fugue. To help her focus, she let loose a guttural, gritty scream.
“Gena, how large is target 01M?”
“The Orbiter 3 satellite data shows target 01M is 12.2 meters in length and is fusion powered,” answered Gena.
As the spike peaked in strength, Ashlyn experienced bleeding. The images from within Steven’s mind told her all that she needed to know.
Without wasting precious seconds of time to transmit a message through her comm’s high-security encryption mode, she said, “Dog house? This is Lady Fox. Emergency response requested!”
No reply.
“Dog house, repeat. This is Lady Fox. Please respond!”
“Foxy Lady, your orders are to maintain radio silence!”
Ashlyn ignored the reprimand and the familiar wordplay of her call sign. “Sir, the order is obsolete. There is a missile, a planet killer, on its way to Earth. We need to intercept it!”
A long moment of silence passed before a familiar voice returned, “This is Commander Stratton. We are well aware of the situation. The laser will take care of the missile. Your request is denied.”
“Sir, the missile is a doomsday weapon. It will destroy Earth! And it’s going to circumvent the laser.”
“We have no evidence to support that.”
“Trust me. I have inside information. We need to do this.”
“Ashlyn, you were at the briefing a few weeks back. You know as well as I do that it is impossible to navigate through the hailstorm of falling debris. It’s suicide—and dammit, you are just too green to be considering this. Not to mention that it’s more than your life that you’re risking.”
“I’m not as green as you think, sir. I have fourteen-hundred hours logged in the air being trained by a team back at the Foundation. Either way, I am sorry, sir. I don’t have a choice!” said Ashlyn with finality. “We’re out of time. This is bigger than me, or the others that I’m putting at risk. It’s the needs of many.” Ashlyn knew that Stratton was one of the few people aware of the fact that by risking her own life, she was also risking Steven’s.
He heard her comm go silent as she cut communications. “Ash!” Stratton pounded his fist on the console, his concern for her and Steven evident. “Son-of-a-bitch!”
“Lady Fox, preparing for surface flight. Watchdogs, shield your intakes. I’m powering up,” she announced over her
***
As yet another large quake stilled and Ashlyn’s craft settled, a small alarm on her tactical display sounded, bringing attention to a blip on the screen.
Ashlyn sat on the rim of the trench, some four thousand meters above Sea Base. She saw that far outside the minefield’s protective grid and far from the numerous blips that represented the debris of Enlil’s destroyed fleet, a lone, red, flashing triangle approached Earth. Target 01M.
As a new pilot in training, they had given Ashlyn the simplest of duties. Each day, she took a shift monitoring the lasers, making sure they were always in a state of readiness for when the attack began. For Ashlyn, it was supposed to have been nothing more than the work of a sleepy-eyed night watchman. It was here that the myriad of little sea creatures, drawn to the laser’s resonant hum and eerie orange glow, could help distract her from her profoundly strong need to be with Steven.
Each night, the fugue brought them together. Each time, Ashlyn’s blood felt like it boiled—her mind and body focused upon the desperate need to possess him. The fugue was seeking a physical fulfillment, which had not come, and it often left her feeling faint and disoriented. Killer migraines had forced her into isolation, seeking out quiet, darkness, and solitude.
Forty minutes ago, all that changed. Now the three sequentially linked quad-lasers were protecting Sea Base from Earth’s exploded Moon.
Ashlyn cursed the bad timing as she felt a spike in the fugue. To help her focus, she let loose a guttural, gritty scream.
“Gena, how large is target 01M?”
“The Orbiter 3 satellite data shows target 01M is 12.2 meters in length and is fusion powered,” answered Gena.
As the spike peaked in strength, Ashlyn experienced bleeding. The images from within Steven’s mind told her all that she needed to know.
Without wasting precious seconds of time to transmit a message through her comm’s high-security encryption mode, she said, “Dog house? This is Lady Fox. Emergency response requested!”
No reply.
“Dog house, repeat. This is Lady Fox. Please respond!”
“Foxy Lady, your orders are to maintain radio silence!”
Ashlyn ignored the reprimand and the familiar wordplay of her call sign. “Sir, the order is obsolete. There is a missile, a planet killer, on its way to Earth. We need to intercept it!”
A long moment of silence passed before a familiar voice returned, “This is Commander Stratton. We are well aware of the situation. The laser will take care of the missile. Your request is denied.”
“Sir, the missile is a doomsday weapon. It will destroy Earth! And it’s going to circumvent the laser.”
“We have no evidence to support that.”
“Trust me. I have inside information. We need to do this.”
“Ashlyn, you were at the briefing a few weeks back. You know as well as I do that it is impossible to navigate through the hailstorm of falling debris. It’s suicide—and dammit, you are just too green to be considering this. Not to mention that it’s more than your life that you’re risking.”
“I’m not as green as you think, sir. I have fourteen-hundred hours logged in the air being trained by a team back at the Foundation. Either way, I am sorry, sir. I don’t have a choice!” said Ashlyn with finality. “We’re out of time. This is bigger than me, or the others that I’m putting at risk. It’s the needs of many.” Ashlyn knew that Stratton was one of the few people aware of the fact that by risking her own life, she was also risking Steven’s.
He heard her comm go silent as she cut communications. “Ash!” Stratton pounded his fist on the console, his concern for her and Steven evident. “Son-of-a-bitch!”
“Lady Fox, preparing for surface flight. Watchdogs, shield your intakes. I’m powering up,” she announced over her
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